I work at a beachside timeshare resort in Florida. With big money comes big entitlement, and whooooo, boy, is the entitlement strong with these folks.

In the span of eight hours last night:

A guest stopped me during my rounds and made light conversation. They asked for my name; I gave them my first name. They asked for my last name, as well; I refused, citing that I was uncomfortable giving that information out on the job. They then asked for my badge number and what entity I was employed with. I said I had no badge number; it’s private security contracted out to the resort. They walked away after that and went right to the front desk, where they filed a complaint because I didn’t give them my last name or badge number.

Another guest got mad because I had apparently “sniffed” my nose at them as I walked by. My allergies are acting up right now.

A guest asked for an extra blanket. I found one and brought it to them. When I got there, they asked, “Can I have a pink one, instead?”

Someone lit off fireworks somewhere off of but close to the property. Guests called the front desk and asked for security to shut down the fireworks; it was 1:00 am so that’s understandable. When I said the fireworks were not on property, a guest said, “I’m calling someone who can actually do their job.”

Amidst a chaotic and frustrating night, I did have some time to finally sit down and breathe. A guest saw me, took a photo, and said they were showing management that I was sitting on the job.

I would leave today if I wasn’t the only one on this post.

I renovate furniture as a hobby. Most of the time, I intend to use it for my house, but sometimes it doesn’t turn out as I expect or, more often, it takes me so long to finish, I no longer need it.

I have had some good luck selling furniture. I get what I spent on it and sometimes a little more. As I say, it’s a hobby, so I’m not making massive amounts.

I find a table being sold for cheap. I message the woman selling it and pick it up. I rub it down and start the repairs. I have it sat to one side ready for painting when I get a message from the same woman.

Woman: “I need the table back; my sister wants it now.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’ve begun repairing it and it won’t look very good without a paint.”

Woman: “Well, how long will that take?”

Red flags appear, but she may have seen the renovated furniture I sell online.

Me: “A week or so, but I’ve not decided if I want to sell it yet.”

Woman: “I will message you in a week.”

A week goes by, the table is finished, and I am pretty happy with my handiwork. I’m not sure what to do with it yet, but if I could get a good price, I would part with it. Exactly a week to the day, the woman messages me again.

Woman: “Have you finished my table yet?”

Me: “I have finished the table you sold me, and I think I might be okay with selling it for the right price.”

I attach photos.

Woman: “I will pay you [the same I paid her].”

Me: “Sorry, but no. It cost me money to repair and paint it. If you want it, you will have to give me a fair price.”

Woman: “But it’s my table!”

Me: “I’ve decided not to sell. Thank you for your interest, but we have nothing more to discuss.”

I closed the conversation and listed the table for a reasonable price. I got many, many messages from her, from bargaining to threats, but none wanting to pay me what I’m worth.

I sold the table the very next day to another very happy woman. I decide to take a bit of a break in renovation, but I hope to get back to it soon.

I work for a local family-owned grocery store, working at the service desk, the only place where returns can be processed. A man comes in the door and approaches me carrying a box of raisin cereal. He holds the box up.

Customer: “Can I return this?”

For health reasons, we currently have a no-return policy once something goes out the door, so I advise him as such, apologetically.

Customer: “Then, can I exchange it?”

Me: “Do you have the receipt?”

Customer: “Well, no. I bought it a week ago.”

Me: “Sir, what was unsatisfactory about it that you want to exchange it?”

Customer: “There weren’t enough raisins. There were only like five in the whole box!”

Me: “Sir, how did you determine how many raisins were in the box?”

Customer: “My wife and kids poured it out into bowls and found out when we ate it.”

The customer tips the box over and shakes it out in front of me to show it’s empty. The bag isn’t even in it.

Me: “Soooo, you already ate it?”

He responds completely matter-of-factly and in a slightly irritated tone.

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “Wait, so you want us to dispose of your empty box, and then you want a box of cereal for free?”

He looks at me puzzled.

Customer: “Well, yeah. There were barely any raisins in it.”

Me: “Sir, this would be a manufacturer complaint, but my manager is right here. Let me just double-check.”

She heard everything and shakes her head and mouths “noooo” to me.

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we aren’t in the practice of giving away free product except when donating to local events or charities, but you can contact the manufacturer and see if you have better luck. I hope you have a good day.”

He walked away grumbling and shaking his head, realizing his attempt at getting free stuff had failed miserably.

I’m getting ready for a company event when [Coworker] calls. 

Coworker: “I need you to come and pick me up.”

He lives about twenty minutes in the opposite direction of the event and has his own vehicle. I know he’s been trying to get people to give him a ride so he won’t have to drive and he’ll be free to drink as much as he wants.

Me: “Why?”

Coworker: “Carpooling is good for the environment.”

Me: “Okay, then you come and get me.”

Coworker: “No! Come on, [My Name]. Just help me.”

Me: “Are you going to pay me for the gas for the extra forty minutes per trip?”

Coworker: “F*** no!”

Me: “There’s your answer, then.”

I hung up. [Coworker] arrived an hour late, blaming everyone who refused to pick him up.

I’m closing the bank one night with a coworker. The lobby and drive-up are closed, and the doors are locked. A car pulls into the parking lot and parks. Someone in normal clothes gets out, knocks on the door, stands there for a minute, and then walks away. The car doesn’t move. For safety reasons, we are not allowed to leave if there’s an unknown car on the lot, so we sit in the lobby and wait.

After ten minutes…

Coworker: “Think I should call [City] Police?”

Me: “Yeah, I think it’s time.”

Due to our location, which is pretty sketchy at night, the local police usually have a patrol nearby and will monitor the lot if needed after closing. My coworker calls, and a few minutes later, a squad car pulls up. A cop gets out, speaks to the occupants of the car, and then comes to the door of the bank. He’s shaking his head.

Cop: “Evening, ladies. They say they’re the new cleaning crew, but they don’t have a key, so they need someone to let them in.”

Me: “What?! No.”

Coworker: “The cleaning crew has a key, and they normally show up around 7:30.”

Cop: “That’s what I thought. I’ll make sure they leave and then I’ll watch you go to your cars.”

He did just that. We reported the incident to the branch manager the next day. Later, she got a call from our central facilities manager with a complaint from the cleaning company about being chased off the property by a cop. It turns out that they’d changed cleaning companies, but had not told us. They’d been told that “the branch staff” would simply let them in! The branch manager asked if they really expected two tellers to allow three unknown people into the building after closing and then leave them there alone. The cleaning crew magically had keys the next night!